"You know that a small farmer, like me, cannot be in possession, at
this season, of the large sum you demand."

"That is your affair, Mr. Bacon. I want my money now, and must have
it."

There was a tone of menace in the way this was said that Mr. Bacon
fully understood.

"I haven't thirty dollars, much less three hundred, in my
possession," said he.

"Borrow it, then."

"Impossible! money has not been so scarce for years. Every one is
complaining."

"You'd better make the effort, Mr. Bacon, I shall be sorry to put
you to any trouble, but my money will have to be forthcoming."

"You will not enter up the mortgage?" said the farmer.

"It will certainly come to that, unless you can pay it."

"That is what I call oppression!" returned Mr. Bacon, in momentary
indignation, for the utterance of which he was as quickly repentant.

"Good morning," said Dyer, suddenly turning his horse's head, and
riding off at a brisk trot.